Phone Call
by Inaditch
Summary: Drunk at two am, Dean decides to make a phone call to someone he knew. (past Dean/Lisa, slight Destiel at the end)


Two a.m. was what the clock was taunting him with. His brain pounded behind his eyes as he rested his hand over them trying to massage the pain away. His other hand curled around a shot glass filled to the brim sitting next to a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the desk. Bed was calling to Dean however he knew that once he crawled into the sheets, loneliness would blanket him as well and he wouldn't sleep until his body failed to keep him up again. Slowly he lifted his head up from his hand, the pain subdued for now as he looked at the clock and stared at it. Should he...? No, the soul-crushing pain would weigh on him even more but with that knowledge he uncurled his hand from the glass before digging into his pocket. Dean pulled his cellphone out and laid it in front of him, his dark eyes staring as he moved his finger half-heartedly across the screen to the contacts list. His finger hovered over the name he was about to call, quivering as it waited for his brain to catch up with him before pressing it and pulling it to his ear.

One ring, two rings, three rings before the voicemail answered and a familiar voice resounded in his ear. "Hello, this is Lisa Braeden and - " He clenched his eyes shut as another familiar voice entered, a little deeper than he remembered.

"Benjamin Braeden," He felt tears prickle his eyes and covered his mouth as Lisa's voice returned.

"We can't come to the phone right now, leave a message after the beep," There was a loud beep signaling it was Dean's turn to talk. He let out a sniff and stayed silent for a few minutes.

"Hey...hey there Lisa," He began, finding himself slurring a bit. "I-it's Dean, not that you would remember me..." The hunter pinched the bridge of his nose wondering what the fuck he was doing. "I...I just wanted to find out if you...you were okay...and Ben too." He murmured, "You don't have to call back, but uh...yeah...I miss you and Ben...alot. That's gotta sound creepy, I'm sorry it's like two in the morning and I'm drunk." Dean let out a small huff of laughter, "But y'know...I always loved you...you-you were the best thin-" There was a click and Dean blinked, "Hello...Lisa?"

"Hello." An unfamiliar deep voice replied sending chills down Dean's spine. "Lisa's asleep, why are you calling?" The man hissed into the receiver and Dean gripped his cellphone so his shaking hands wouldn't drop it.

"I just...I wanted to...talk to Lisa," He answered, glaring at his phone.

"Listen to me, you've been calling and leaving messages for Lisa for weeks now. Get a life," Dean gulped, "You're scaring her and I don't like my wife-" The hunter's heart dropped and he gripped the wood of the desk, shaking it lightly. Of course, she moved on. She didn't remember him, all the times they shared, anything about them. "-being afraid to even leave the house just 'cause some weirdo like you is calling her. So I'm going to say this once-"

"Stop calling her...I-I know,"

"No. You don't know, _Dean_," He snarled out his name, "Next time you call, I'm calling the police,"

"Is something wrong?" Dean's eyes widened as he heard Lisa's tired voice in the distance.

"Nothing sweetheart, just needed a drink," The man responded, "Better not call here again," He hissed before the phone was hung up. The hunter took a few gulps of air before his hand betrayed him and let his phone fall onto the floor of the bunker. The blond male sat in silence for a few minutes before taking a shot of whiskey and slamming it against the desk. The stinging of his throat only intensified the bile rising in the back of his throat and he forced himself out of the chair, letting it scratch against the floor as he wobbled his way to the bathroom. With some struggle, he managed to pull the toilet seat up, cursing Sam for him always putting it down. Vomit exited him quickly when his body registered that it was near a safe place to get the excess waste out of his body. His body shook as he gripped the porcelain sides, tears began falling into the toilet as well. He sniffed and wiped his tears whenever his body stopped heaving up lunch.

"God...why?" He whispered, as more bile rose and he forced himself to expel it. "Why did you take the best thing I had away from me?" He stammered out, his body shaking as he leaned his head against a side and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I hate you...you know that?" He growled up to the ceiling, "All you fucking do is wait around while people are fucking suffering and you do what? Send your douchebag angels to pick us off one by one and cause more panic and destruction. Was this your big plan? Huh? You a fucking..." He hiccuped before letting out more vomit. "Sadist or some sh-" A pressure against his shoulder made him whirl his head around too quickly and heave vomit against the floor. "Fuck..." He grumbled before looking at the blurry intruder.

"It's funny how you only pray when you're in trouble or really drunk..." The blurry image spoke before hooking its hands under Dean's armpits. "Let's get you back into bed, Dean..."

"I wasn't praying, get your hands off me," The hunter growled but there was no venom in his voice as he let the stranger pick him up from the puddle of waste around him. The image cleared a bit as he looked up at the angel he knew. "Cas?"

"Shush, we can talk about it tomorrow or never at all. Your choice." He muttered as he moved the slumped body to its bedroom. Castiel picked up the Righteous Man-once again, he mused- and laid him in the bed, earning grunts and huffs from Dean. The angel slowly began peeling off the man's clothes and left him in his underwear before pulling a blanket over him. A hand wrapped around Castiel's wrist before he could walk away,

"Cas...y-you're an angel right?" Castiel chuckled and ran his fingers through the sweat matted blond hair.

"I am..."

"Why...why does God hate me?" He said in a soft voice. The angel's face hardened as he pulled his hand from Dean's hold. He pressed both of his hands to Dean's heated cheeks.

"Dean Winchester, God does not hate you. God does not have the capacity to hate any of his creations," He replied in a harsh tone.

"Then why...? Why make me suffer?" He cried out. "Why take everything I love away?"

"Sam is still here, Dean..." Castiel hissed. "_I'm_ still here, Dean...he hasn't taken away everything." There was a thick fog of silence that dawned upon the two men who stared deep into each other's eyes.

"You're still here..." Dean repeated and the angel nodded. "Can...can you help me sleep, Cas? I-I don't think..."

"Yes Dean," Castiel smiled softly before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the hunter's lips. Dean's eyes fluttered before they slipped close and his body relaxed. The angel pulled away before pressing a hand to his forehead and using his grace to pump out all ailments that the alcohol brought on. "I'm still here and I won't leave you..."


End file.
